Manhasset: Rules to March By
by Captain LeBubbles
Summary: There are certain rules that every band kid must learn and lock away, rules that are learned on the field and morph into a part of life. Will eventually morph into a series.


**Title- Manhasset: Rules to March By**

**Summary- There are certain rules that every band kid should know, rules that you learn to use for everything in your life.**

**A/N- The first part of this did happen, but I morphed it for my own characters from my series Manhasset: A Band Story. Incidentally, the rule for this one is 'Your health comes first.' One of our director's favorites.**

**o.o.o**

"Get off the field, put the tuba down, get in the shade, and drink some water. You're of no use to me dead."

Kayla bit her trembling lower lip and sulked off to sit under the tree atop the hill overlooking the practice field. Her cheeks were bright red, burning hot just as much from the shame as from the heatstroke.

She pulled her water bottle out of her pocket and dumped half of it on her head, the lukewarm drops mingling with the hot tears on her cheeks. The other half she sipped down slowly and carefully, trying not to drink too fast and make herself sick.

It wasn't fair, she couldn't help thinking. So she'd gotten a bit hot. Didn't mean she was dehydrated. She took another sip of water and held out her hand, palm up. It looked the same as ever. How could he tell she was dehydrated just from looking at her palm?

She watched the rest of the band practicing, trying to get the new formation right. She should be down there too. How was she going to learn the show if she was stuck on the sidelines?

She saw them stop and Ann look up at her. It was Ann's fault, really. The trombone player had seen her friend wobble a bit and called attention to it. Now she was on the field, learning her positions while Kayla sat on the sidelines and watched.

The minutes ticked by far too slowly for the tuba player. She was starting to cool down now, a combination of the water and the shade and the breeze moving across the hill.

She was beginning to realize that she'd been a bit silly. She knew her body better than anyone; she _knew_ she overheated far too easily. And she'd known the minute she started to dehydrate, when her body was far beyond its limit. She'd thought that by dropping out and taking care of herself, she'd be hurting the band, but her now-clear head was making it fairly obvious that by letting the band be called to a halt so she could be ordered off the field had cost the band precious minutes, minutes that could have been used to learn their positions.

The band director called a halt and she could see the other kids drifting off to the shade offered by the trees growing near the field, all of them purposefully avoiding her position. They weren't stupid by far, and they knew that when their tuba player was mad or embarrassed you didn't want to go anywhere near her.

She watched Mr. Lurry tell one of the drummers something before turning and walking up the hill. She hugged her legs to her chest and rested her forehead on her knees, unwilling to face him. She heard him sit down next to her, stretching his long legs out in front of him.

He was silent for a long time, waiting for her to speak, so she did.

"Sometimes people sit out because they're lazy," she said quietly. He continued to say nothing. "I didn't want anyone to think I'm lazy or not devoted to the band."

He snorted. "I only wish the rest of the band was as devoted as you are." She looked up at him at last and he offered her an apologetic smile. "And I'd never think you were lazy just for taking care of yourself."

She rested her chin on her knees and stared out at the field. "I just feel like I'm not doing my part. Everyone is working hard trying to make the show a success and I'm up here resting. I don't want to let the band down." _I don't want to let you down, _she added in her mind.

He'd been her band director since fifth grade, when she'd been a short trumpet player with far more attitude than sense, and they'd both ended up transferring to North High Falls the same year three years later. He'd been the first person to make her feel that she was needed, that her presence was desired, and she felt, irrational as it was, that he belonged to her more than to any of the other students.

She knew that such devotion to anyone, particularly to a teacher, was unhealthy, but she couldn't help it. She needed his approval, and the desire to please him had been transferred to a desire to make the band great.

She held out her hand, palm up, and looked at it. It had returned to normal by now. She closed her hand and dropped it to her side.

"Next time I'll sideline myself," she said quietly.

**A/N- I will eventually put up more stories in the 'Rules to March By' series.**


End file.
